Skinny spring, your tail coiled around / all the way back / back / back to the beginning of your short pounce.
I crack when I remember / not that you cared You were your own barber / you made your own fashions.
The many mice you sent are waiting for you with a banquet / a bed with bells on all four corners.
you’ll send them out again, and bat the bells under the couch for me to cry over